<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Empty Houses by kaientai</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997049">Empty Houses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai'>kaientai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A3! (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, I just want to hug him, Pre-Canon, Sleeping Together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:28:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day in, day out; Azuma comes home to an empty house.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Yukishiro Azuma/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Empty Houses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day in, day out; Azuma comes home to an empty house. </p><p>But he doesn't really mind. The solitude is calming after all.</p><p>He shuts the door behind him (ignoring the fact that he doesn't hear it back when he says, "I'm home"), and the sound of the lock clicking in place is deafening in the silence. Azuma squints when he flicks on the lights, his finely furnished apartment coming into view. But despite the extravagance that his job gives him access to, something still feels. . . missing.</p><p>Begrudgingly, he reminds himself, the solitude is <em>calming</em>. </p><p>When he pours himself some tea, he indulges in one of those noontime soap operas running on his barely used flat screen TV. The heroine on-screen is just about to uncover her husband's affair, and of all the things that can race through his mind at that moment, it just has to be, <em>that looks like my client from the previous evening. </em></p><p>But when Azuma briefly recalls the quick conversation you shared with him before drifting to sleep, he reconsiders. That <em>is</em> you.</p><p>He is no stranger to lying beside celebrities—they had their fair share of sleepless nights, after all. But there's something about the odd coincidence timed with how you saw <em>straight</em> through him last night that bothers him. It doesn't help that <em>that</em> feeling—the one he was so desperately suppressing for <em>years</em>—is slowly slipping through the cracks in his mask of sophistication. </p><p>He doesn't like it. Not one bit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Azuma-kun, you'd make a great celebrity."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He raised one brow at your sudden proclamation. Azuma shifted on the mattress, feeling the delicate caress of smooth sheets on his skin as he affixed you with a playful stare. "My, what makes you think that?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You lied still on your side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with a kind of melancholy Azuma only saw when he would pass by a mirror. Pink lips part to make way for a tired sigh, the shadows beneath your eyes becoming more prominent in the low light. </em>
</p><p><em>"You lie with a face as smooth as butter. You're good at telling people what they want to hear. And I'll toss in a compliment to say you already look the part." The latter was partnered with a small stretch of your mouth that wasn't quite a smile, but was. . . </em>something<em>. "Have you ever considered becoming an actor?"</em></p><p>
  <em>No, he hasn't. "It does sound interesting, but I don't think I'm cut out for such a thing."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sheets rustled again, this time by your effort. You sat upright, lips pressed into a thin line that dissolved into a bout of chuckles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You and I, we're the same," you murmured, and there's a forlorn kind of emptiness in the way you spoke the words that sent a shiver down his spine. "You might've fooled your other clients, but I know a person running from something when I see one."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Azuma didn't let himself lose face. He simply stared at you, unblinking, despite fearing you might just hear how fast his heart was racing in his chest. For a moment, something like remorse flashed across your sunken eyes, and before he could even reassure you that he didn't mind at all, you beat him to it.</em>
</p><p><em>"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose," you told him, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. "But, for what it's worth, acting really </em>does<em> give me a breather at times. Maybe you could give it a shot."</em></p><p>
  <em>"How so?" he asked—not only to humor you, but out of genuine curiosity. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your hands found their way on your lap and Azuma watches the way you twiddled with your nail-bitten fingers. "This might sound a little silly but. . . When I get a new script, I'm a different person each time. Even for a few hours, I could pretend to be someone else—someone who doesn't have to run away."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He smiled at you as he hauled himself into a sitting position as well. One of his hands found its way to your back, rubbing the surface with the same gentleness he would use to lull clients to sleep. "Isn't that just a temporary fix, (Name)-san?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Well," you began and this time, when your lips twitched again, Azuma's certain it was a smile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A beautiful one.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It's better than living your life feeling even emptier than yesterday, isn't it?"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The bold heroine on the television screen donned with red lips and eyeliner sharp enough to kill is glaringly different from the soft-spoken woman he lied with the previous night. Azuma stares down at his reflection on the amber surface of his half-empty cup of tea and sighs. </p><p>Your apartment is situated in the heart of a theater district called Veludo Way. As he made the trip back to his own place, he passed by a couple of teenagers who seemed to be pursuing a thief. He could have just carried on without batting an eyelash, pretended to have never seen a thing, but no. He went ahead and made a bluff that he didn't even know would actually work. </p><p>
  <em>Acting really does give me a breather at times. Maybe you could give it a shot.</em>
</p><p>He shakes his head and gets up from the couch, padding towards the kitchen as he dumps the contents of his mug down the drain. The sound of running water fills his ears and nothing else.</p><p>Day in, day out; Azuma comes home to an empty house, but he starts wondering what it feels like not to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know what compelled me to write this, but here it is. I love you, Azu-nee.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>